


Give Me a Sign

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-01
Updated: 2016-05-01
Packaged: 2018-06-05 16:10:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6712024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The burning bushes are one thing, but the dreams? Gabriel is trying to get a message to Sam.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give Me a Sign

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zzzett](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zzzett/gifts).



“I don’t know if its really a case, Sam.” Dean muttered, tugging his tie off and tossing it on the back of the creaky chair in their motel room.

 

“Dude, the bushes burst into flames. Didn’t you say that’s what happened when Crowley had that angel captive?”

 

“Yeah, but—“

 

“No buts, Dean. We jut need to look harder.”

 

The Winchester brothers had been in Illinois for a week after news reports had proclaimed burning bushes everywhere in a two-mile radius of an abandoned farmhouse. They’d found nothing in the farmhouse, or on any of the surrounding properties for that matter but Sam couldn’t shake the feeling that there was something here; they were missing it.

 

Sam tossed and turned that night. Dean was out, doing what he did best.

 

_There was a voice, almost a giggle – that sounded so familiar. That color. It filled every sense possible, a light, burnt gold, shielding the person’s face from Sam’s view._

_“Help me, Sam.”_

Sam jerked awake with a name on his lips he never thought he’d say again: Gabriel.

 

Sam had never gotten dressed so quickly in his life. Dean was still out, so he thought to write a quick note,

 

_‘Got a lead. Be back soon. Have my phone. – Sam.’_

He dropped it on the table before slipping his gun into his jeans and rushing out.

 

It was a chilly night – Sam noticed as he jogged the mile to the farmhouse. He felt a strange pull; Gabriel was calling to him.

 

He was confused and hurt. For years now both he and Dean had thought Gabriel died saving them from Lucifer. To think he might have been alive this whole time – Sam was torn between wanting to hug the Archangel or punch him square in the jaw.

 

Sam burst through the rickety wooden door of the farmhouse. “Gabriel! I heard you! Show yourself, please!” He called, his voice echoing off the walls.

 

“Sammy… Sam!” The voice was weak to Sam’s left. He turned, heading toward the voice.

 

“Keep talking!”

 

“Sam!” The voice was weaker, but closer. Sam rounded a rusted tractor and gasped.

 

Gabriel, the majestic (pain in the ass) angel that Sam knew so well was lying in the corner. His clothes were dirty and tattered and he was surrounded by feathers in the same gold of Sam’s dream. “Gabriel…”

 

Sam rushed toward Gabriel’s prone form. He feared the worst for a moment until Gabriel’s honey brown eyes fluttered open for a split second. “Sam?” His voice was weak, tiny compared to the angel Sam remembered.

 

Sam scooped Gabriel up like he was weightless, wincing when the Archangel whimpered against his chest. “Stay with me, Gabriel.” Sam ordered gently, digging for his cell phone. He began to walk, grateful that Gabriel was currently conscious enough to hold on to him.

 

Dean answered the phone call after a few rings. _“What?”_

 

“The burning bushes – All those weird omens. It was Gabriel.”

 

_“Gabriel is dead, Sam.”_

“No, he’s not. He’s weak, and he’s hurt. I’ve found him, but you need to pick us up, I’m headed back to the hotel now.”

 

 _“Stay where you are.”_ Dean’s tone was concerned.

 

“I can’t risk it. I need to get him somewhere warm. Meet us on the road to the farm house.”

 

_“How do you know it’s really him?”_

Sam sighed, exasperated. “It’s him. Just please trust me, Dean. Hurry.” He hung up and wrapped both arms more tightly around Gabriel - who had passed out completely by this point – and headed toward the hotel.

 

Dean met them about halfway down the road. It had begun snowing and Sam had never been so grateful to see the Impala’s headlights.

 

Sam laid Gabriel into the backseat and climbed in, rubbing his freezing hands together rapidly.

 

Dean glared into the rearview as he headed back toward the hotel. “He looks pretty rough for an Archangel.”

 

“He was trying to contact us with the bushes I think. He was finally able to reach me through a dream, it’s how I knew where to find him. I think he was hiding, or between worlds, or something before, which is why we couldn’t find him.”

 

“Did you test him? Make sure it’s not a shifter or a demon?”

 

“Dean, why would either of those use his form? We don’t have the best track record with Gabriel.”

 

“Could be a trick from Amara. Or Lucifer.”

 

“Again, why?”

 

“I don’t know, Sam!” Dean shouted, slamming his hand down on the steering wheel. “Doesn’t this strike you as a little suspicious though?”

 

“Yes, but I believe this _is_ Gabriel. And I’d rather let him explain than jump to conclusions. We owe it to him – he saved our asses back then and gave us the heads up about the Horseman rings. Plus, if we help him, he might be able to help us against Amara.”

 

“He did have a hand in putting her away before…” Dean agreed.

 

“Exactly. So can we focus on that?” Sam pleaded, looking worriedly back at Gabriel.

 

Dean nodded, pulling into the hotel parking lot. Sam was out before the car had come to a complete stop. He carried Gabriel into the room and laid him carefully on the bed.

 

“We should bring him back to the bunker tomorrow. If this isn’t a trick, a hurt Archangel like him is probably sending out a huge beacon.” Dean commented as he sat at the table and watched his brother.

 

Sam nodded, rising and wetting a washcloth with warm water. He sat on the edge of the bed and began to wipe down Gabriel’s face. “I agree. He can heal up safely there.”

 

Sam stayed up all night watching over Gabriel. The next morning he carried him to the car, lying him in the backset.

 

“You want first driving?” Dean offered, then scowled and pocketed the keys. “Never mind, you’re sleeping.”

 

“I’m fine.”

 

“Bull. The bags under your eye shave bags. Did you sleep at all?”

 

“Not really.”

 

“Then I’ll drive, you sleep.”

 

After arriving at the bunker, Sam set Gabriel up in a room near his own. He took on a nurse-like role; he’d come in once an hour or so to move the angel – unsure if a vessel could get stiff, or bedsores – and change any bandages that needed changed. Gabriel remained comatose, however, despite Sam’s tender care and pleading.

 

After a week of nursing, Sam entered Gabriel’s room one evening. He’d begun to lose hope that the angel would ever wake again; he was startled when Gabriel’s eyelids fluttered. The next moment, a surprisingly strong hand gripped his wrist. “Sam.”

 

“Gabriel? You’re awake!” Sam cried, his heart swelling with pride and excitement. “I can’t believe it!”

 

“Help me sit up, huh? I feel like I’ve been lying for a century… And I’m sure you want some explanation too, huh?” Gabriel asked as he struggled into a sitting position.

 

Sam rushed to help him; worried he’d hurt himself again. “Hey, go slow.”

 

Gabriel looked down at himself, plucking at the baggy t-shirt and sleep pants he was wearing. “What’re these?”

 

“Um, mine. Yours were in tatters. I – I wanted you to have clean clothes when you woke.

 

Gabriel grinned. “Aw, Samoose dressed me?” Sam’s face reddened immediately.

 

“Not—I mean I didn’t –“

 

“Relax.” Gabriel grabbed Sam’s wrist. “Thank you. You saved my life.”

 

“No. I mean, Dean he—“

 

“He didn’t hear my call. You did. So thank _you_.”

 

Sam flushed deeper, pulling his wrist out of Gabriel’s grip. He let his hand linger however, and his fingers found their way into Gabriel’s, holding his hand tightly for a moment.

 

“Listen, Sam, there’s a lot I need to explain but, can I do something I’ve wanted to do for nine years?”

 

“Of course, what’s that?”

 

Gabriel grinned his patented trickster smile, eyes glinting. He moved quickly, catching Sam’s mouth in a kiss. When Sam didn’t move back, Gabriel deepened it, wrapping his fingers in Sam’s shaggy hair.

 

They broke apart only when Sam desperately needed air, and Gabriel’s grin returned tenfold. “Always wanted to kiss me a moose.”

 

Sam gaped at the playful Archangel who – ill or not – giggled wildly on the bed. Gabriel was back, and Sam couldn’t have been happier.


End file.
